Miscellaneous Fairytales: Volume One
by BadgerLeopard
Summary: An anthology release, with three distinct stories, each one having some sort of link to Doctor Who. Dare you read on?
1. The Hotel

**The Hotel**

Hugo Watson casually strolled to room fifty four, luggage in hand. He was looking forward to his week-long break in one of the best hotels in London. He was a young-old man with short-ish brown hair and who wore a red t-shirt.  
He saw a young girl rushing down the corridor, happy as can be.  
He saw an oldish couple, but cheeky was she.  
He saw a wonderful bird-tamer, with a hawk that was free.  
Hugo saw a lot of things on the way to his room but eventually managed to sigh with relief as he got out his keycard and entered his room.

After heaving his luggage into his room, Hugo opened the curtains and gazed out, looking at the bustling landscape that was London. He could see lots of lights constantly moving about, which were presumably cars with people inside. Going about their business.  
He then turned his attention to the TV that was on the wall opposite his bed: he grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, only to see Martin Roberts walking around a cheap little bungalow in Cornwall.  
Changed channel.  
Tommy Zoom was rushing around.  
Changed channel.  
An old professor was in a dead forest with his granddaughter and her schoolteachers, heading back to a police box.  
Television off.  
Even though he had more than a dozen channels available to him, a minibar and a swimming pool, Hugo still felt bored.

Outside his room, Ms Poggit from number fifty six was shouting at Mr Agnew from number fifty seven over who was the loudest at night. Ms Poggit believed that Mr Agnew was watching Midsomer Murders too loudly but Mr Agnew said that it was only because he was very deaf.  
"Could you two please stop it?" Hugo asked the two warring neighbours.  
"Are we being loud dear?" Ms Poggit replied, unaware of how loud her argument was.  
"Yes, you are. I'm just trying to think and your loudness is causing me to lose concentration."  
"Sorry dear."  
The pair of them went inside and continued to argue, having learnt nothing from Hugo.

Mr Dawson from number fifty three then stepped out of his room and walked down the corridor towards the lifts as he felt that he needed a break. And a drink. And a bit of bingo.  
He walked down the corridor slowly, thinking about what he had done to deserve this. He felt ashamed that he had left his wife yet also he felt relieved: it was a new beginning. A fresh start for 2020.  
But he really needed a beer.

Hugo had also decided to have a drink, albeit from his minibar. He was drinking a bottle of lager and relaxing on his king-size bed. It felt nice to take a break from it all. His boss wanted him to go to Portsmouth in the morning. Then Gosport the day after that. Then Glasgow.  
He needed to take a break. So that was why he had booked himself into one of London's top hotels.  
There was a knock at the door.  
Hugo answered it.  
"Sir, here is the room service you ordered." the steward said, bringing in a plate of sausages and mash, covered in thick brown gravy.  
"Thank you." Hugo simply replied, watching the steward walk away.  
The door closed.  
Hugo smiled at his plate of food. It had a wonderful smell: so original, so meaty, so fresh. The prospect of the smell appealed to him.  
He began to eat it.

Outside, Mr Dawson from number fifty three had returned from his beer voyage and noticed something in the corridor that wasn't right. There was a weird smell, like burnt meat. Perhaps someone had brought back a dodgy kebab. Those were all the rage now: kebabs, mobile phones, Candy Crush, selfies. He was not a modern man.

Hugo had finished his meal and had wandered outside, noticing Mr Dawson from number fifty three returning to his room.  
"Excuse me," Mr Dawson from number fifty three called to Hugo, "do you smell that?"  
"Smell what?" Hugo asked in response.  
"Burnt meat. It's weird. Like a dodgy kebab."  
"I can't smell anything."  
Mr Dawson from number fifty three sighed and entered his room.  
Hugo sighed and entered his room.

Ms Poggit from number fifty six and Mr Agnew from number fifty seven then began to argue in the corridor again. Hugo knew what he had to do. Because he had had enough.  
"Excuse me," Hugo asked the pair of them, entering the corridor, "could you help me with something?"  
"I'm sorry dear. What can we do to help?" Ms Poggit from number fifty six asked.  
"My telly's stopped working and you two look like intelligent individuals. Could you come and help?"  
"Okay then dear. I don't understand how two old war horses like us could help, but if you think so then we'll certainly help."  
The two of them entered Hugo's room and closed the door.

Inside Hugo's room, Hugo stood in front of the telly, facing Ms Poggit from number fifty six and Mr Agnew from number fifty seven who were sat on the bed.  
"How can we exactly fix your telly if we're sat here on the bed?" Mr Agnew asked Hugo.  
"Fix my telly? My telly's fine." Hugo replied, walking over to the door and locking it, "I have another problem to deal with."  
"What problem?"  
"This problem."  
And then Hugo changed: his normal human form reformed into something terrifying. Bones moved into new positions, his face reformed into one of true rage. The creature standing opposite Ms Poggit and Mr Agnew made them afraid: it was tall, red and covered in suckers. It had an arched head and no form of neck. It had a clearly visible ribcage, three fingers on each hand and three toes on each foot.  
"You shall die!" the Zygon wailed, raising its left hand up until its palm was in line with Ms Poggit's face.  
Ms Poggit from number fifty six and Mr Agnew from number fifty seven screamed.

**THE END**


	2. A Bizarre Organisation for Clever People

**A Mysterious Organisation for Clever People**

Tony Hutchinson smiled, looked at the clock and began to pack up his stuff. It was Friday. The end of Friday. Finally.  
"Have a good weekend Tony." his colleague, Jamelia Trask, said to him as he walked out to his car, satchel slung over his shoulder.

When he got home, he dumped his satchel in his front room and microwaved a chicken curry. He knew he had a meeting that evening for an organisation he had heard of so that's why he had decided to microwave a dinner. But he liked microwave dinners. They made him salivate happily.  
The microwave beeped. Tony's face lit up, as he pulled open the lid and removed his dinner. He rapidly gobbled the curry down and had a large tub of yoghurt immediately afterwards. He liked yogurt. It was tasty.

After watching _Mad Men_, Tony went up to his bedroom, put on a smart shirt, tie and jeans and then went to the front door.  
Phone? Yes.  
Keys? Yes.  
Perfect.  
Tony put on his trainers and went outside, closing the door behind him.

On his way to the meeting, Tony thought about his life. His girlfriend, Sheena, was staying at Trisha Morgan's house and his parents were on holiday in Sweden. What exactly was his life all about? He was slightly fat, yes, but he was also intelligent. Cunning. Reasonable.  
When he was at school, he had always been called 'Fatty Cakes'. But he would show the world. He would rise to dominance.

Half an hour later, Tony arrived at the meeting. The leader of the group was a young-ish man called Elton, with short blond hair, who was sat next to a paving slab that had a bald woman's face embedded in it. That was rather creepy. Sat next to the paving slab was an old-ish woman called Hilda, then there was a middle-aged man called Tyson and then, finally, a young child called Matilda.  
"Hi everyone and welcome to LINDA." Elton announced, "I'm Elton and the woman next to me is Ursula. About a year ago, I joined LINDA to try and figure out the truth about a mysterious traveller. But then something happened to my team. Ursula only just survived that incident."  
There was an awkward silence for a moment.  
"I don't want to relive any memories of that incident. So now LINDA has been reformed for a new purpose: we'll solve murder mysteries. Unsolved murders is what we'll do. I've always loved Agatha Christie."  
Everyone looked awkwardly at one another.  
Tony was disappointed. He wasn't expecting a murder club.

The meeting had been fun though. They had sang songs by the Electric Light Orchestra, ate lovely food and had plenty of wine. Elton had dished out some unsolved cases and Ursula had helped to try and figure out some of them.  
In all honesty, Tony did not have an idea on how Ursula came to be in a paving slab. It seemed very strange.  
But it was over now. Everyone was leaving and Elton was walking towards the door, Ursula in his hands, when Tony decided to do something.  
"Elton, could I just ask you something?" Tony asked Elton, who turned around and walked over to him.  
"Yes Tony. What do you want to ask?" he replied, placing Ursula on a nearby chair.  
"I just wanted to show you something."  
Tony raised his left hand and held his finger on his watch, making him transform into something which Elton instantly recognised: Tony's skin became greener and fatter, with some faces being clearly present in certain areas. Tony's head became a bit balder, with a long tuft of hair running from the top of his head all the way down his back. He had three fingers on each hand and an expression of satisfaction on his face.  
"You!" Elton exclaimed in shock, as the Absorbaloff raised its arm and moved towards him.  
"Come on Elton. Become one with me. You can live forever." it replied, smiling.

The next morning, Elton Pope was sat at a press conference, next to acclaimed director Jonas Kuornssberg.  
"Elton, how did you get that amazing costume for the Jonax creature?" came a journalist's voice from the crowd.  
"Let's just say that it's good to know where to get realistic costumes." Elton replied, with a smile.

**THE END**


	3. The Flat That Jack Built

**The Flat That Jack Built**

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly and a cool breeze drifted through the air. Jack and Michelle Watson's car pulled up outside the block of flats that they were going to view, knocking over a wheelie bin that had been left in the street. They then got out of their car, locked the car and walked up to the front door.  
"Hello, this is Jack and Michelle Watson." Jack said into the intercom, after pushing down the button that said 'NEW FLAT', "We've come to view one of your flats."  
There was a short buzz and then the door in front of them opened. Jack smiled at Michelle as they entered the ground floor.

In the lift, Jack noticed his his ex-girlfriend, a pretty young woman called Teymina who he'd met in Taiwan when he had been there on a business trip, was texting him for some reason. She'd sent him a text saying "Wanna meet up some time? T xx" and he decided to ignore it. He'd gotten over what happened in Taiwan. That had been a year ago.  
They entered the flat. It was a dingy looking place, with stained carpets, dodgy light switches and a smashed television. But there was something worse upstairs.  
"Jack, come and have a look at this." Michelle called to him, standing on the first floor of their flat. He bounded up the stairs and noticed that a message had been written on one of the walls in black ink: THEY'RE IN THE WALLS.  
"Probably just rodents or something." Jack assumed, walking back down the stairs, "You should just ignore it."

Roger Watson was afraid. Something was chasing him throughout the house but he couldn't identify what that was. He noticed, however, that they seemed to be pursuing him through the walls. I should just write a warning, he thought, in case someone else moves in. And so, picking up a tin of black paint and a paintbrush, he quickly wrote his warning on a nearby wall, before being swallowed up by the house.

Jack was now in the kitchen, examining the kitchen equipment that had been left by the previous owner. The fridge had an old packet of crisps that had a sell-by date of 1993 and also a mouldy Mars bar that had maggots swarming all over it. The kettle, however, was much worse: it actually had a dead rat inside it, submerged within a thick layer of fluid that was a mixture of water and used bathwater.  
"You do not want to see the inside of that kettle." he warned Michelle, closing the lid and inserting it into a cupboard.

They then moved on to the living room and found that, remarkably, the smashed television still worked. It had only one channel though, which was Channel 5, but they didn't mind. Once the place had been done up a bit, they would buy a new TV with more channels.

Roger had returned from his Sunday walk and was resting in front of the television. He was watching Martin Roberts talk about a cheap little house in Devon when something strange happened. Martin's face and body seemed to come out of the screen, into a weird 3D yet not 3D form.  
"What the hell?" Roger exclaimed, punching the strange figure only to miss and hit the TV, permanently making it stay on Channel 5.  
"What the hell?" the figure repeated, as it began to chase Roger around the house.

Jack and Michelle had finished their viewing and were satisfied with the flat. It had been exactly as advertised in the estate agents and even had a TV which worked. Sort of.  
But, when Jack tried to open the front door, he couldn't find the handle: the handle had become part of the door, melting into it so that it looked as if the handle had just been painted on. The door then became part of the wall, trapping them inside the house.  
"That's not supposed to happen." Jack remarked, concealing the fact that he was now extraordinarily scared.  
Behind them, what they had simply assumed was a painting of Martin Roberts emerged from the wall and advanced towards them.  
"What the hell? That's not supposed to happen." the strange figure repeated, as the house swallowed Jack and Michelle.

**THE END**


End file.
